


Love Hurts

by VCCV



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bestiality, Draco/Narcissa, F/M, Ginny/Lucius, Harry/Sirius - Freeform, Lucius/Sirius - Freeform, M/M, Necrophilia, Non Con: Ron/Ginny, Other, Torture, Warnings: Incest, mental mindfucking, non con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 11:16:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11035074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VCCV/pseuds/VCCV
Summary: Harry, Ron and Draco are captured by Voldemort. The results aren't pretty.





	Love Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> Please, note the warnings. Not joking here, folks.

Love Hurts…

In the days after Voldemort’s resurrection he lay low, keeping quiet. Most people were lulled into a false sense of security, which boded quite well for him, for when he finally struck…he struck hard. He leveled Hogwarts, killing the staff as they sat over morning coffee in the teacher’s lounge. Killing the students who were stupid enough to attempt to stop them. Taking the pretty ones, the children of the light.

Some of his kills included Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Pansy Parkinson of all people. Some of his captures included Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy. Surprisingly, Draco had defected to the light side after watching Lucius Malfoy kill Narcissa. She had made the mistake of protesting her son’s forced involvement with Voldemort. It was her last mistake. 

And so, Draco Malfoy had joined Harry Potter, defender of light, and Ron Weasley who had suffered the loss of most of his family early on. They would have been a quartet, save that as soon as Ron and Hermione had announced their intentions towards one another…Voldemort had her killed. 

Thusly, it was only three young and confused boys who became the central rally point on which the forces of light placed their hopes. 

Until they were captured

_______________________________________________________

Love Scars…

Ron looked warily around the empty room. The fact that it truly had nothing at all in it did not bode well. It could only mean that whatever torture Lucius Malfoy had planned for him in here was to be delivered by the man himself. Ron would rather take the rack than submit to that filth. The filth that murdered his baby sister. 

His throat felt tight as he remembered the last time he’d seen her, limp body held in the air by aristocratic hands buried in flame red hair. Lucius Malfoy’s evil smirk lingered in his mind even months afterward. The blonde man had pointedly waited until Ron made eye contact with him before apparating away with his sister’s body. Not even the chance to bury her. 

Deliberately, he forced his thoughts away from remembering. He let his mind drift, wondering if Harry and Draco were sitting in similar rooms somewhere else in the Death Eater compound. He sat up straighter as he heard footsteps approaching. Even after months of ‘conditioning’ he still found it difficult not to cover his naked form, but he determinedly held his hands to his sides as he lifted his chin in defiance. That chin dropped in shock at the figure stepping into the room.

He expected more Death Eaters. He expected Lucius. Hell, he expected Voldemort. He expected anyone…anyone but the one person who walked through the door.

“Ginny?”  
________________________________________________________

Love Wounds…

Draco sighed and tried to find a comfortable place for his naked arse. It wasn’t easy on a floor cold enough to permanently geld him. He wondered once again how he’d come to see this side of his father’s ‘play room’. In the past, he’d been the one on the outside of the door, smirking at the reaction he was about to wrest from the unknowing victim on the other side. 

He’d run the length of a whip through his delicate hand, loving the feel of the leather, whilst his father explained to him once again how small and precise wrist flicks were better for blood flow than harsh and hard. He’d wait, eagerly, for the door to swing open…for the expression on the victim’s face. He’d smile, a cold and bitter smirk, actually feeling a pang of pity for the idiotic fool who managed to fall from his father’s good graces.

He allowed himself a small flinch. And now, he was the idiotic fool. He was the one waiting with baited breath. His would be the expression-laden face that would make his father smirk. And his mother’s death was for nothing. Voldemort had still gotten his hands on Draco. And he didn’t know what was worse…being Voldemort’s slave, or his prisoner.

The door cracked open and Draco took a deep breath, resigned to the next few hours of pain. Resigned to a role reversal he’d never imagined. ~Just look up, Draco. Just get it over with. ~ 

But he couldn’t. 

Until he heard that voice. 

“Draco?”

His head shot up, hope/horror/fear filling his heart.

“Mother?”

________________________________________________________

Love Mars…

Harry watched the door shut behind his smirking captor and wondered why they even bothered anymore. They had to know by now that Harry wasn’t going to give them a reaction. He never screamed, never cried. He never winced nor begged. Yet they always smirked, always poked, always pushed to see if they could be the one to break Harry Potter.

He could have told them.... if he was so inclined…that he couldn’t be broken. Of course, they should have figured that out for themselves by now. Look how many times he’d suffered Voldemort’s attempts. He’d lost his family, his friends, his freedom. He’d lost everything, but he was still unbroken. In the face of the indignities offered by the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters, he stood serene. 

Perhaps his time was over; his term as World Savior had ended. But he knew that he had done his part while it had lasted. He knew he had lived up to his parents’ hopes for him…Sirius’s hopes for him. And he kept that thought in his mind always. During times of torture, during times the horror stories of events occurring just outside of the compound, during his nightmares he kept that thought. His parents, his godfather would be proud of him. 

He settled himself as comfortably as was possible with naked flesh pressed against cold stone and he waited. Soon, he could hear the footsteps outside his door. Hmmm. Two sets. Perhaps Lucius wanted to impress his latest fucktoy with his impressive ‘capture’ of the Golden Boy. Harry sighed and turned to face the door. Perhaps he couldn’t be broken, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed the punishment he received when he did not do as Lucius commanded.

The door swung open and Lucius stepped inside, a smirk on his face to rival that of the previous guard. As the second body moved in behind the blonde, Harry realized what the smirks were for.

“Oh, my God…Sirius?”  
________________________________________________________

Ginny looked over at Ron with a blank expression. She looked much the same as she had in months previous. Save for the vacant look in her eyes…and the distinct lack of clothing…she could have been just in from a Charms class, or perhaps just come from downstairs for lunch. Lucius chuckled at the hope in Ron’s eyes. She placed a handled case on the floor at her feet and then returned her gaze to Ron’s face.

“Ah, sweet little Ginny,” the older man purred. “Were you aware, Mr. Weasley, that an overdose of Calming Potion creates a kind of catatonia? And months of overdosing creates an entire new world for the imbiber?” he stroked Ginny’s arm, drawing her attention to him. Blue eyes tracked his movements without really registering. “In this new world, they don’t really understand much at all beyond physical sensation.”

“What did you do to her? Did you fucking touch her, you piece of shit?” Ron snarled at him.

Lucius tsk tsk’d at him. “Language, my dear Mr. Weasley. And yes,” he smiled slickly. “I did. Both fuck her and touch her. Thank you for asking.” Ron launched himself to his feet only to halt at the appearance of a large knife to Ginny’s throat. Ginny moved her expressionless eyes to Ron’s vibrating form, placidly ignoring the knife pinching into her skin.

“I also learned that your sister is quite the responsive little thing,” Lucius stroked a hand down Ginny’s slender side. “I’m not quite sure if she was as responsive before the generous application of Calming Potions, but afterward? Ah, afterward…she made the most of the only stimuli getting through to her drug soaked brain.” He moved his hand over Ginny’s firm breast and squeezed gently.

She gave a low moan of pleasure and her eyelids drooped in a sensuous move. Ron wanted to throw up. “I’ve taken the liberty of creating a series of tests using an interesting spell I’ve found. You see,” he continued to speak, absently running his thumb over Ginny’s nipple, ignoring her moans and the spread of her legs. Ron, however, couldn’t force himself to look away from the horror. “In the past, Dumbledore taught his people a spell to ease the burden of being tortured.”

He sighed. “Not that it worked unless the person was actually being put to death, but I suppose that in that instance, it was quite the relief. Anyway, the spell takes the reactions created from physical stimuli and reverses them.” He moved his hand further down Ginny’s belly, brushing over her ginger curls. “Thus, any infliction of pain will produce pleasure, and any infliction of pleasure will produce pain.”

He smiled as he twirled a pubic curl around his finger. “Fascinating, isn’t it? Since I’ve been working with your sister on this spell, I thought it might interest you to see how it works first hand.” Ron shook his head; already visualizing things he had no desire to see. Lucius just chuckled. “I’m sorry, Mr. Weasley. You seem to be under the impression that I’ve offered you a choice.” His voice dropped into a whisper and he sank his finger into Ginny’s moist curls. “I didn’t.”

He pushed the whimpering girl from him and pointed his wand at her. “Muto responsum,” he intoned. A small shudder moved across Ginny’s skin, but other than that…she remained motionless. “Now, my dearest Ginny,” he cooed while removing a small vial from his robes. “Do be a love and have your brother drink this.”

Ginny took the vial from his hand and popped it open. She stepped to Ron’s side and held it up. Ron shook his head, fiercely pressing his lips together. Ginny just cocked her head and watched him. Lucius sighed and moved up behind her. “Mr. Weasley, I would suggest that you take this while Ginny is still in one piece,” he murmured.

Ron hesitated for a moment and Lucius shrugged, pulling up the knife again. “Fine!” Ron burst out. “I’ll take it. Fine. Just don’t…don’t touch her.” He plucked the vial from Ginny’s fingers and downed it in one gulp. He made a face at the overly sweet taste and handed the empty container back to his sister.

Lucius, in turn, took it from her and dropped it back into his robes. “You may sit down, Mr. Weasley,” he said with a smile. “The potion will take a few minutes to take effect.” Ron backed up against the wall and warily sank back into a sitting position. “Very good,” Lucius purred. “And now for the show.” Ron’s eyes widened as the man opened the case behind him and removed a small crop.

“Ginny, love. Do come here.” The girl moved willingly to Lucius’ side and gazed up at him blankly. “Face your brother, sweetness.” She turned to look at Ron again, ignoring the horrified look on her brother’s face. 

*Crack*

A pleasure filled moan echoed through the room as Ginny closed her eyes. Lucius made his way around her body, bringing the crop down on random pieces of flesh. A hip first…then her lower back…the flat of her stomach…the curve of her breast. Each crack made Ron flinch. Each moan tore through him as though he were the one enduring the pain of the whip.

Tiny trickles of blood flowed from Ginny’s flesh and red welts criss-crossed her entire body by the time Lucius called his game. Ginny whined in longing as the man put the crop away and Lucius smiled, slapping her hard enough to leave another mark on her arse. She licked her lips hungrily at him. “Yes, dear…you do so love the crop, don’t you?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Now, let’s try something we haven’t done yet, shall we my sweet?” Ginny nodded vigorously…eagerly. 

“Please, stop,” Ron whispered. “Please just leave her alone.”

Lucius smiled hugely at him. “Oh, dear boy…you haven’t seen even a tenth of the glories this spell offers. For instance…” he reached back into his back and came up with a piece of metal around the length and circumference of a knitting needle. “I’m sure you know how sensitive a woman’s nipples are, don’t you?” He stood behind the redheaded girl and cupped her right breast in his left hand.

“With this spell, that doesn’t so much change as it mutates.” He placed the pointed tip of the metal rod above the pink areola and pressed. The metal stabbed through the tender flesh with a sickening pop and blood began to seep. Ginny ground her arse into Lucius’ groin, gasping in pleasure. Ron gagged and attempted to rise to his feet again.

This time, he found it impossible. Lucius sighed. “Do sit still, Mr. Weasley. You’ll miss the show. You can’t move anyway. At least not any significant amount. The potion you took is a combination of muscle relaxants…and a lust potion.” Dazzlingly white teeth shone in a feral grin. “You should be feeling that part of the potion quite soon as well.”

Ron tried to force his muscles to obey. The best he got was a limp twitch from his legs and a spastic movement from his arms. Lucius rolled his eyes and went back to Ginny. He made a series of holes surrounding her areola, each about a centimeter apart. Ginny practically writhed in his hands. She moved her fingers to the vee of her legs to try to alleviate the ecstasy but Lucius responded with a gentle lick against her face that had her yelping in pain. Her hands stayed at her sides after that. 

Blood streamed from her mangled right breast, painting her stomach a bright vermilion, and Lucius moved on to her left. He repeated his actions, piercing perfectly spaced holes through her skin. As Ginny stood, gasping and wriggling, he tossed the rod back into the case and pulled two small flat pieces of metal from his robes. He carefully inserted a piece through the perforated flesh of Ginny’s areola and settled it directly under her nipple.

She panted at his machinations, at the blood that flowed from her nipples in a dark stream, and then he repeated his actions with her left nipple. When both pieces had been put into position, he cast Engorgio. Ron screamed along with Ginny, albeit for an entirely different reason, as the small metal pieces expanded to galleon size, pressing at the tiny strips of flesh left holding her nipples to her body. 

The metal shone brightly around the bloodied flesh and Ginny dropped to her knees gasping. She pressed her aching clit against Lucius’ leg and ground down. He kicked her off with a frown of disapproval and she moaned all the more. The older man turned his attention to the gagging younger man. “Well, that was indeed interesting,” he stated. “Don’t you agree?” Ron could only shake his head feebly and let the tears fall.

Lucius sighed and turned back to his bag of tricks, removing a small jar and a paintbrush. “Perhaps you’ll enjoy this then?” He ordered Ginny to lie down, directly in front of Ron. As she obeyed, he knelt and unscrewed the jar. With a pleased smile, he dipped the brush in and came up with a thick, black paste on the end of it. “Watch this,” he winked conspiritally. 

With that, he lowered the brush and painted a careful stripe down the center of Ginny’s ivory stomach. She screeched and bucked her hips up desperately. Ron could see the black streak begin to smoke and her flesh to sizzle…and then the smell hit him. He managed to roll to the side before losing his breakfast of porridge and water, but the sizzling noise wouldn’t stop…nor would the stench of burning flesh.

Ginny panted and whined, alternately squeezing her legs together and spreading them wide, begging with her whole body to be fucked. Lucius didn’t seem to mind the smell at all, though he appeared a bit irritated by Ginny’s constant thrashing. Finally he snapped at her to lock her hands in her bloody hair and leave them there. Ron watched in sickened dread as the next painted stripe caused her to tighten her grip enough to tear out a clump of fire-red hair.

Once she realized that that, too, was pleasurable, she contented herself with ripping out the remainder of her once-luxurious locks. Lucius chuckled and rewarded her by painting every spare centimeter of her skull with the black paste, ensuring that the trademark Weasley red would never grow again on Virginia Weasley. When every last bit of the black paste was used, and Ginny resembled some horrific tribal totem, Lucius scourgified her skin. The paste was cleansed away leaving pus filled blisters and bubbled, gnarled skin in its wake.

“Quite the artist, aren’t I?” Lucius preened. Ron didn’t even have the strength to argue. His throat hurt from the bile. His eyes hurt from the tears. His heart hurt from the vision in front of him and he couldn’t decide what was worse: watching Ginny tortured, or watching Ginny enjoy it.

Lucius stepped over her squirming body and moved next to Ron. He reached down and grasped the younger man’s cock, squeezing slightly and jacking him twice. Ron was mortified to see his cock respond. His erection sprang to life, pulsing under the ministrations of Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater and Torturer of Ron’s sister. 

Lucius grinned. “I see the potion has taken effect. I’ll give it a few more minutes to really begin working, and then we’ll see about using this lovely thing.” He squeezed Ron’s cock once more and moved away. Ron wanted to die when he heard a needy moan rise from his own throat. “And I have just the thing to occupy those few minutes,” Lucius called over his shoulder.

Ron finally managed to look up as Lucius knelt back down beside Ginny, holding a pair of heavy clamps in his hand. The redhead watched in shock as Ginny willingly opened her lips to Lucius’ prodding and lay there as the clamps ventured into her mouth. A quick jerk, a whimper of pleasure and a spray of blood later and Lucius held up a shiny white fang. Giving Ron a wink, he tossed the tooth to the ground beside him and dove back in to repeat his actions 27 more times.

Ron had a rather surreal thought…he should thank Merlin that Ginny’s wisdom teeth never came in.

As the last tooth fell to the floor, Lucius tossed the clamps into his case. He dragged Ginny, nearly incoherent with lust, over to Ron’s seated body. “Now, I’ve never tried this before, Mr. Weasley,” Lucius purred. “Do tell me how you like it. Ginny, my love. Put that sweet mouth to work and suck your brother off.”

Ron’s eyes widened and he tried to scuttle away. The potion kept his movements to a bare minimum. Then Ginny’s hot mouth closed around his cock and he didn’t even try to move again. Vaguely, he realize he should be disgusted at his actions…but he couldn’t get past the feelings his little sister’s toothless mouth were inspiring in his groin.

Her mouth was warm. Her blood was warmer. There was no irritating rake of teeth, no chance that if he bucked up…and he did…that he’d risk getting pricked by a canine. The blood mixed with her saliva to create a slickened, lubricated path for his cock to take. The ridges from her gums where her teeth had not too long ago resided provided an exciting friction.

Ron was caught up in the sensations, slamming his cock down his sister’s throat, and growling in frustration as Lucius pulled an equally frustrated Ginny off of him. “Oh, no Mr. Weasley,” he chuckled. “We have further use for that lovely piece of meat between your legs. No orgasm quite yet.” He held a strange bit of leather in his hands. It was attached to leather straps and shaped cylindrically. Tiny bits of metal glinted off of it.

Lucius dragged Ron’s arse away from the wall and manhandled him, buckling the leather straps into place. He grasped Ron’s cock and used the blood coating it to ease the leather down over the bulbous head. The leather squeezed Ron’s shaft nicely and left the leaking purple head exposed. Lucius took a moment to amusedly flick the aching member before moving back to watch from a distance.

“Lovely. Now, I think it’s time for you to return the favor your sister bestowed upon you, Mr. Weasley,” Lucius smirked. “Ginny, sit on your brother’s face.”

Ron had just enough time to take a breath before his sister’s ginger curls were burying his nose. He opened his mouth in reflex and got his first taste of Virginia Weasley. She was soaking wet, the evening’s entertainment having primed her to a frenzy. She tasted salty, musky. Ron wanted to cry again.

“Lick her, Mr. Weasley,” came the smooth voice of Lucius Malfoy. “I’m sure you’ll be able to tell what she likes.” 

Ron closed his eyes and determinedly stuck out his tongue. If he had to do this, he was bloody well going to make it good for her. The first lick was met with a whimper that sounded nothing like her previous noises. When he took her clit into his mouth and began swirling his tongue around it, he heard her sob. He hesitated, concerned, and then sank his tongue into her vagina, deep as he could reach and laved her inner walls. Another sob and she jerked off of his face.

He glanced up to see Lucius laughing hysterically. “Stupid boy,” the blonde man chortled. “Forget, did we, that pain is pleasure and pleasure…is pain?” Ron looked back at Ginny in dawning agony. She huddled in on herself, shooting accusing glares at him from wet, blue eyes. “Let’s try this again, shall we?” Lucius kicked Ginny in the side and she looked up at him adoringly.

“Get back on him,” he demanded. Ginny slowly complied; giving Ron untrusting looks the whole while. “Now, Mr. Weasley. I want you to wrap your lips around her clitoris,” Lucius smirked. “Then I want you to follow with your teeth. And then…I want you to bite it off.” Ron’s eyes widened and he began shaking his head frantically. Lucius shrugged and produced the knife he’d threatened Ginny with previously.

“Very well,” he said in a bored tone. “Then I suppose you will watch as I slit her throat.”

Ron began trembling but didn’t stop his sister from resuming her place over his mouth. She braced her hands on the wall and looked down reproachfully at him. Ever so slowly, he took her clit back into his mouth. He even managed to place his teeth around it. Then he faltered. He looked up through red curls into the eyes of his baby sister and couldn’t do it.

A silvery blade blocked his eyesight. The blade sank into Ginny’s flesh and she moaned, grinding her clit deeper into his mouth. A line of blood began to drip from the metal and Ron shut his eyes…and bit.

Ginny shrieked. He could feel her orgasm rack through her body, shaking her limbs and causing her nether lips to clench repeatedly onto his chin. His lower face was covered in cum as it gushed from her in waves. He could feel the small nubbin of flesh swimming round in a mouthful of blood and he started to gag. Thankfully, Lucius jerked Ginny off of him just before he lost his stomach contents for the second time that evening.

He lay on his side, staring at the pool of blood and bile…and the tiny piece of his sister’s flesh floating in top. And he cried. A hand chucked under his chin and he looked up into the grey eyes of his torturer. Lucius smiled widely. “Well done, my boy. Now. I think it’s time to make use of that little toy strapped to your cock, hmmm?” Ron didn’t even protest as Lucius rolled him over onto his back again and told Ginny to sit again.

Once again, he found the feelings generated in his cock overwhelmed his common thought process. He recognized that Ginny sank down onto him. He knew that the metal bits had to have cut her because she started groaning and grinding onto him. He knew that every thrust he made into her hot hole caused her more damage…but he couldn’t stop.

He only hoped his reactions were from the lust potion and not from his own sickened mind. Ginny’s cunt sheathed him in warm wetness. He managed to ignore that the wetness was not only from her pleasure earlier, but also from the blood his own cock was drawing. She squeezed her internal muscles down and rode him hard. He felt the orgasm building in his lower stomach, lightening bolts of pleasure shooting through his body. 

He closed his eyes and let Ginny fuck herself on him, impale her ripped and ragged body onto his rigid flesh, work herself into another orgasm as he slowly shredded her insides. And then it was upon him. He found it interesting, in the back of his foggy mind, that he couldn’t move when he wanted to escape…but his body overpowered the potion as he came, allowing him to piston his hips, ramming his cock deeper and deeper into his sister. As he came, his vision dimming, he was vaguely aware of a high-pitched wail emanating from above him. 

Ron came back to himself a moment later to see Lucius kick an unmoving Ginny off of his cock. The older man was smiling proudly. “Well done, my boy. Well done.” Ron thought that if he had the energy, he might be sick again from the tone…but unfortunately, he had none. “She’s out. Perhaps from the blood loss, perhaps from an overdose of pleasure.”

Lucius actually rubbed his hands together. “I feel my experiments today were well worth my time. Don’t you agree?” Ron could only moan and try to turn away. Lucius crouched down beside him, careful to keep his knees out of the pools of blood. “You know, dear boy,” he said softly. “She’s not good for anything at all now, but for a pain slave.” Another grin followed Ron’s anguished moan. “And she has you to thank for it all. I may have ruined her looks, but you…oh dear boy, you ruined her very femininity.”

Lucius traced his finger down Ron’s cheek. “You took her only source of release away. You ruined her inside and out. She’ll never feel womanly pleasures again. At least,” he chuckled, “from unspelled sex. She’s sure to feel a great deal of pleasure should she be under Muto Responsum again. Perhaps I’ll call for you when she’s had a chance to heal up and you can play with her again. Would you like that?” 

He laughed. “No? I understand. You only did all of this to her to keep her alive,” he nodded sympathetically. “And very Gryffindor of you to do so. Now, all we need to do is keep her off of the calming potions for a bit and she’ll come back to reality and thank you for sparing her life.” Lucius looked thoughtful. “Though, perhaps when she comes back to herself, she’ll wish she was dead. Hmmm, interesting.”

Ron whimpered, tears obscuring his vision. And Lucius laughed again. “You know the best part of this entire experience, Mr. Weasley?” he questioned, then leaned down to whisper in Ron’s ear. “I gave her a fertility potion as well. Won’t that be lovely? A new generation of malleable, freshly innocent Weasleys. A beautiful untainted canvas and me…with years and years to plan just how I want to sully it.”  
________________________________________________________

 

Narcissa Malfoy smiled sweetly. “Hello, baby,” she called softly. “I’ve missed you.” Draco swallowed hard. He could hear the noisy sound reverberate in his ears and he wondered what sound vomiting would make in ears that seemed to capture every sound and amplify it. And vomit he knew he would, for his mother moved into the circle of light.

Draco always thought his mother the most beautiful woman ever to grace the earth. Most people thought similarly. She was gorgeous with her slim figure, her shining gold hair, and her brilliant blue eyes. She was cool and dignified, reserved and regal. Yet, to Draco, she was loving and kind. She always had a genuine smile for her only son. She loved him more than anything else in the world and her every action showed that.

Indeed, it was her love for Draco that led to her destruction. She defied everything that made up a Malfoy when she realized that her precious son was destined to live under the oppressive stranglehold of her husband’s master. She sold Lucius out. She gave vital information over to Dumbledore in return for the promise that Draco would be free, would be safe, and would never belong to Voldemort. 

Needless to say, Lucius didn’t approve. That was the first time Draco ever saw Avada Kedavra. His soul silently froze as he watched his beautiful, loving mother fall to the unforgiving floor. And yet, here she was…back once again. Yet, Draco feared that she had forever lost her claim to the most beautiful woman. As she moved into the room, Draco wanted to cry.

In life, Narcissa would never have been caught wearing the lingerie that adorned her body. She would never have condoned looking like a whore. And yet there she stood, clad in a shimmering, low-cut, blue satin corset, cream-colored silk stockings, high-heeled strappy shoes and a garter belt made of the same blue satin as her corset.

It would have been stunning, had Narcissa not been falling apart…literally.

The corset pressed her breasts up causing the bloated and mottled skin, with no place else to go, to press up and over the wired material. The soft, creamy stockings appeared to do more towards holding the flesh of her legs in place than they did in accentuating their beauty. Draco could see where whoever had dressed her had poked a nail through the silk. Bits of her flesh protruded sickeningly through the tiny holes, making her legs look as though they had deformed boils along their length.

He followed the wretched sight down to her slender ankles and tiny feet. And felt the gorge rise in his throat. Wherever Lucius had kept her, obviously had not been as protected as it should have been. Rats had been at her feet. Her toes were chewed down to nothing, causing her to walk in a strange clomping way, as she had nothing on her lower extremities to keep her balanced.

The garter belt sank into her hips, mottled purple. In some still-calm part of Draco’s mind, he recognized that the coloring of her backside meant that she’d died laying flat. The blood in her body had pooled to the lowest point in her body, giving a hideous purple counterpoint to the rest of her milk white skin. And the fact that she wore no panties accentuated that fact.

His eyes shot away from the golden vee of curls between her legs and he flushed with embarrassment at having witnessed his angelic mother’s private parts. Unfortunately, that only allowed him to focus on her head. The long, golden hair he so loved to wrap around his fingers as a child was dull and dirty. Great patches were torn from her head and it looked as though the rats that had nibbled her toes had chosen to live in her hair.

Her skin was graying and looked slightly wet. The only thing that looked like his mother was her bright blue eyes. Eyes that still looked at him with love…even in death.

“What’s wrong, baby?” 

He shivered. The voice was the same. Death had not diminished the clear bell-like tones of his mother’s voice. And somehow, that was the most horrible part.

“Draco, love? Aren’t you happy to see me?” There was hurt in that voice. Hurt that a part of Draco responded to, even knowing the truth of the matter.

“Of course I’m happy to see you, Mother,” he whispered, forcing himself to look into her eyes. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Narcissa smiled hugely and moved forward. “I’m so glad, my son.” She knelt at his side and reached out to touch his cheek. “I love you.”

Draco flinched away automatically but stopped his retreat at the kicked look on his mother’s face. “Draco?” she asked, confused. “Please, what’s wrong? I love you. I just want to be with you.” She leaned in closer, her words causing cold puffs of air on Draco’s skin. “Please, my sweet boy. Please, touch me? Hold me? Make me feel again, Draco. I’ve been so cold for so long. I don’t understand why.”

His mother would never have done this. Rationally, he knew that. His mother was not incestuous. His mother was not a whore. There had to be some kind of magic compelling her to act this way. This was not his mother, and yet…and yet it was. Her delicate fragility was still there. Her need to love and be loved in return. And that was the part that burned Draco’s soul. 

“Mother,” he whispered. “You’re cold because you’re dead,” he stated plainly, hoping that she would just go away.

What she did…was begin to cry. The dead have no tears to shed, but they haven’t forgotten how. Draco could tell that if his mother had the fluids left in her body to weep, she would. Her face scrunched up and her eyes looked mournfully down at him. “Please,” she whimpered. “Please, don’t say that. It’s not true. Why are you trying to hurt me, Draco? Don’t you love me? Don’t you think I’m pretty?”

She moved in closer and rubbed her cheek on his, her breasts against his bare chest, her arms up and down his own. “Please, tell me you love me, Draco,” she pleaded. “Please, tell me you want me. I want you, my sweet.”

When she pulled away, he could feel the wetness on his body and wondered if she’d somehow managed to produce tears after all. Then he glanced down at his chest. Parts of her had sloughed off onto his flesh. Horrified, his gaze shot up to her face. He saw the flash of bright white that was her teeth…through her cheekbone, and he jerked his hand up to frantically scrub the bits of his mother’s flesh from his face.

“No!” he tried to shove himself back into the wall.

Narcissa smiled. “Silly little love,” she chided. “Come back here. Mummy has a special treat for you.” She winked at his appalled expression and slid down his body. He yelped and tried to heave himself away, but her strength seemed to have increased ten-fold with her death. She placed immovable hands on his hips and held him down even as she wrapped cold, dead lips around his cock.

“No,” he moaned in desperation. “Maman, s'il vous plait… ne pas faire ceci!” (Mother, please…do not do this!) He felt as though he were drifting away from reality. He didn’t know what was worse: that his mother was back from the dead and sucking him off, or that she was sucking him off and he was getting hard regardless of his untold mortification.

Just as he thought he might have the strength to fling her away, she stopped and smiled up at him again. His relief was short lived as she swung a leg over his own and straddled him. She picked up his limp hands and wove them into her once-silken hair. ~Ah~ he wanted to cry, ~she remembers too. ~ The connection to his childhood memory of his mother was too much and he snatched his hands back. His gorge rose once again as he took in the clumps of hair trapped around his knuckles at the action.

Narcissa just smiled and leaned into him. She commenced to rub her crotch against the underside of his erection, trapping it between their stomachs. “Je t’aime, Draco,” (I love you, Draco) she purred into his ear. He moaned again, wanting to wake up from this nightmare. Narcissa just pressed against him harder. So hard that he heard a sickening, squelchy ‘pop’. 

He didn’t want to look. He prayed that he was wrong. He offered his soul to whatever demon placed him in this predicament if what he’d heard just wasn’t true…but in the end, he looked. His hardened cock had proven to be stronger than Narcissa’s rotting flesh. He could see the purple of his cock partially hidden by the gray flesh it was sunk into…the gray flesh of his mother’s stomach.

As he slammed his head back against the rock wall, trying to make his vision swim back into focus, he heard Narcissa’s tinkling laugh. She continued thrusting against him, raking the head of his cock against the bony edge of her ribcage. 

He began hitting his head against the wall, trying to distract himself from the notion that even cold and dead muscle feels like velvet against one’s cock. She pulled away from him, his cock making a slurping sound as it dragged out of her body. Another sly grin should have told him what was next, but he was too out of it to recognize the warning. 

She moved her body down slightly and impaled herself on her son’s cock. She moaned slightly and began riding him. Strangely, Draco thought this might be worse than gut fucking her. Her passage was cold and slightly slimy. He could feel her flesh loosely sliding around him, and he feared that if she were to pull out now, most of her insides would come with his cock. 

And the smell…oh dear Merlin, the smell. He gagged at the hideous rotting stench that arose from her insides. He wanted nothing more than to kick her off of him and run shrieking from the room. 

“Draco, baby?” she whispered. “Tell me you love me.” Draco felt hysteria coming on and he tried to hold the laughter back. “Tell me how pretty I am. Tell me how good I’m making you feel. Draco?”

“I love you, Mother,” he managed to choke.

He couldn’t tell how long she rode him, but he knew that she was upset. “Draco, why won’t you cum?” she asked, the sound of tears she could never shed in her voice. “Don’t you love me?” He just nodded, unable to form a coherent sentence for the waves of horror rolling over his mind. “Well, it doesn’t seem like it,” she pouted. Then, a sly grin. “But you liked my stomach, didn’t you, naughty boy?”

Draco shifted into shaking his head as hard as he could, but she was not to be deterred. She hefted herself up off of him and dropped her body back down, sucking him back into the hole he’d created in her flesh. He knew he was crying. He knew that it was hurting her to see it, but he couldn’t stop. She ground herself down onto him faster, harder. 

“Come for me, love,” she whispered. “Come for mummy.”

Then, the head of his cock caught on her rib and raked across the sensitive ridge and he was spiraling into orgasm. He screamed his denial even as his body emptied into his mother’s cold torso. When he looked up again, Narcissa was smiling affectionately. “Good boy,” she praised him. She leaned in and captured his mouth in a kiss.

Her tongue was still nimble and it wound around Draco’s like a snake. She sucked his tongue into her own mouth and slurped it noisily. As she pulled back, he felt something foreign in his mouth and lifted his fingers to his lips to explore. He didn’t need to, though. Narcissa smiled again. He saw the gap in her perfect teeth and knew what was rolling around in his mouth.

He gave in to his roiling stomach and rolled to the side, heaving his guts up. He heard a chuckle and his eyes shot behind his mother sad face to meet his father’s gaze. Lucius raised an eyebrow and then pointed his wand at Narcissa’s back.

“Incendio.”

He screamed until she was ash. He screamed his throat raw. He screamed as he watched her flesh melt, her hair burn. He screamed as she smiled one last time and mouthed her love for him. When he finally stopped, all that was left were tears.

“Congratulations, my son,” Lucius smirked. “You pleased her with your acquiescence.” 

Draco just clutched his arms around his legs and shook. “Mother,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me. I love you.” He ignored Lucius’ laughter. 

“Ah, my boy. Isn’t it funny how sometimes, love wounds more than it heals?”  
________________________________________________________

Harry couldn’t understand why Sirius ignored him. The dark haired man moved up next to Lucius and nuzzled into the blonde’s shoulder. Lucius absently patted the former Gryffindor on the head and smiled down at Harry. “Hello, Mr. Potter,” came the velvety tones of his captor. “I brought you a surprise this day.” He tilted his head slightly to allow Sirius to lick at the long pale column of his neck.

“I spent many an hour doing research,” he continued through the distraction, even though Harry’s eyes were locked on his godfather. “Finally, I found the spell that would free a soul trapped behind the veil.” He frowned slightly. “Strange how it is that I, his sworn enemy, would risk so much to rescue him and you, his godson, would just let him molder away in death.”

Harry flinched, but refused to look at Lucius. “Do you know what happens to a person when they are trapped behind the veil, Mr. Potter?” Lucius didn’t wait for an answer. “One loses their mind, slowly and painfully.” Another flinch. “When one comes out, they are like children. Or kicked dogs.” Lucius laughed. “Or in the case of your animagus godfather, both would be applicable.”

“The rescued soul is so easily manipulated, so easily taught whatever his rescuer wishes him to know.” Harry finally looked at Lucius…and then wished he hadn’t. The depraved smile on his lips did not bode well for what lessons were taught to Sirius.

“Sirius,” Harry called, determined to ignore Lucius again. “Sirius, please. You have to remember who I am. You have to remember how it was. Please! Help me,” he begged. He was surprised when Sirius pulled away from Lucius to snarl at him.

“Why? Why would you want me to remember the pain?” he demanded, a fanatic light in his eye. “Why would you want me to remember the pain that you caused?” Harry stared in shock as Sirius stepped away from Lucius and began to slink towards Harry. “Did you know that you have been the cause of all the pain and the death of everyone I’ve ever cared for?”

Harry shook his head helplessly, but Sirius wouldn’t stop. “Because of you,” he hissed, “James and Lily are dead. Had you never been born, Harry, James and Lily would be safe, loved, protected and with Remus and Peter and me. Peter would never have felt left out of the loop. He never would have gone to the Dark Lord. We could have saved him, Harry, if only everyone hadn’t been so caught up in you.”

Tears began rolling down Harry’s face, but Sirius continued. “If you’d never been born, Peter would never have turned. If you’d never been born, James and Lily would be alive. If you’d never been born, I never would have been locked in Azkaban. I wouldn’t have spent 12 years slowly losing my mind and my soul, Harry.”

Sirius squatted beside a silently weeping Harry. “If you’d never been born, Harry, Ron wouldn’t have nearly been killed in his first year of school. Ginny wouldn’t have been possessed, nearly sacrificed. Because of you, Harry, you and your damndable birth…Remus would never have lost the respect of the wizarding community, never been forced into seclusion, been trapped living in squalor and hate.”

Every word cut at Harry’s heart. Every glare tore open his soul. “Cedric died, Harry,” Sirius taunted. “Remember? He died because of you. Voldemort was brought back because of you, Harry. Because of your cursed gift of flesh and blood. Hundreds of people, Harry…hundreds have died since you brought him back. And hundreds more will die.”

“You are the cause of misery in so many people’s lives, Harry. How do you live with yourself? How does it feel knowing that your very existence causes others pain and heartache?” A sob burst from Harry’s throat, but Sirius ignored it. “You’re nothing, Harry. You’re no one. You’re an animal to put down.” He smirked evilly. “Might as well treat you like an animal, then.”

Sirius leaped at Harry, shoving him onto his back, and transformed. Harry tried to buck him off but froze when his godfather snapped razor sharp teeth millimeters from his face. Sirius tucked his nose under Harry’s side and shoved. Harry, bewildered and terrified, rolled with it and lay on his stomach.

Unable to see anymore, the trepidation tensed his muscles up until he nearly cramped. He felt Padfoot’s fur brush across his back and then a cold nose poked between his arse cheeks and he yelped. A moment later the nose burrowed under his balls and lifted his hips up into the air. He thought about fighting, but then Padfoot growled again and Harry just closed his eyes against the tears.

He felt a warm length press against his arse and slide into the crease. Just as he gave thanks that the hardness felt smaller than any cock he’d ever seen, it was shoved past the ring of muscle, tearing at his tight pucker. Harry bit his lip against the scream and resolved to just lie quietly until it was over. Then he realized that the thin length of Padfoot’s cock was swelling.

It grew larger and larger until Harry was sure he would split in two, and then Padfoot began thrusting. The dog pistoned rapidly, not even moving far out of Harry to do it, but going faster than Harry had ever believed possible. And the worst part? He was starting to get hard. The thickened length was rubbing against his prostate with disturbing regularity.

Not long after he felt the cool touch of the floor on his extended cock, Padfoot shuddered and came…in gallons. The animagus kept pulsing and throbbing, and with each new pulse, a gout of semen poured from his cock, filling Harry to near bursting. When the last pulse stopped, Harry sighed in relief…too soon. Padfoot gave a whuff that sounded remarkably like a laugh and pulled his cock out. 

Much to Harry’s surprise and horror, Padfoot didn’t come out. The swelling refused to pull out past the smaller ring of Harry’s arse muscle. However, it raked soundly against Harry’s prostate. He moaned and heard Lucius begin laughing behind them. Padfoot continued to tug his cock against Harry’s prostate until the boy was seeing stars. Searing heat began to collect in Harry’s gut and his cock wept into the pool of his own precum collecting on the floor.

Finally, it was just too much. Harry came with a scream, his arse clenching around the dog’s swollen penis and his own cock jerking with the force of his orgasm. As he collapsed against the floor, he felt Padfoot finally slip out. The dog whuffed again and Harry looked up just in time to catch a face full of urine as Padfoot hiked his leg and pissed. 

Padfoot then turned tail and trotted back to his master, changing form halfway across the room. Harry lay, tears leaking from his eyes and rolling in piss and semen, as Sirius knelt before Lucius Malfoy and carefully undid the blond man’s trousers. He watched as Sirius worshiped the pale column of flesh jutting from a bed of crisp blonde curls. He stared into Lucius’ eyes…grey, mocking and cold as Sirius worked Lucius into an orgasm.

He couldn’t turn away as Sirius pulled away and let Lucius spend over his face. He wanted to throw up as the animagus rubbed the seed into his flesh and smiled up at the blonde as if Lucius had hung the moon. He knew that the impossible had finally happened as Sirius sighed contentedly and said, “I love you, Master.”

Harry had broken.

Lucius patted Sirius on the head and sent him out of the room. When the door shut behind him, Lucius turned back to Harry with a wicked smile. “Ah, love. Sometimes, the present mars one’s memories of it, wouldn’t you say…Harry?”

________________________________________________________

Voldemort watched with a smirk as the three boys were taken back to their cell. They all stared at their feet, refusing to lift their eyes to anyone. They walked slowly, stiffly like old men. He heard the door open behind him and he lifted a hand to beckon his lieutenant forward. “Lucius,” he rasped. “How did it go?”

Lucius moved forward and took a moment to bow low to the ground. “Splendidly, my lord,” he grinned.   
______________________________________________

The door shut behind the three naked boys and each one flinched at the sound. As if by silent communication, they all moved to their sleeping corner and sat…pointedly not touching. Slowly, haunted gazes lifted enough to take in their friends’ conditions, though not one would meet another’s eyes. Ron: covered in blood, but not a cut one on his body. Draco: smears of grey matter up and down his skin and stinking of the grave. Harry: his flesh soaked in urine and drying patches of semen.

“S-so, who—“ Draco ventured before his voice petered to a halt. 

Ron shook his head furiously and tears began to fall, his body jerking with silent sobs. Harry looked sadly up at Draco and shook his head as well before his eyes slunk away from the knowing grey gaze.

Draco nodded and sniffed loudly, dropping his eyes back to his hands. “Yeah, me either,” he whispered.  
_____________________________________________

“Yes, it went quite nicely indeed.”


End file.
